


and no one in her right mind would make my home her home

by zealotarchaeologist



Category: SOMA (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Pre-Canon, featuring Catherine's many many issues, i honestly can't believe no one has written for this ship yet, mostly compliant with canon!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zealotarchaeologist/pseuds/zealotarchaeologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catherine and Imogen, before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and no one in her right mind would make my home her home

**Author's Note:**

> I just love these two so much. Title is from Autoclave by The Mountain Goats, which is a GREAT song for Catherine imo.

“Wait, you think Reed likes me?”

Lindwall sighs at the other end of the line. “Catherine. A lot of people like you.” But a lot of people aren’t Reed.

Catherine mumbles and uh-huhs her way through the rest of the conversation. She feels bad for calling Sarah at work in the first place, but for this information, it might be worth it.

Reed likes her. Reed likes her?

Catherine is, at her core, a logical person. And she knows for a fact that she’s not easy to like. Sure, there’s nothing particularly offensive about her, but she’s quiet. Awkward. Weird. She’s always been weird, always had a tendency to fixate on her projects, always felt uncomfortable being a human interacting with other humans.

So if anyone at all likes her, it’s shocking news.

Reed is practically her opposite. Charming and sarcastic where Catherine is quiet and awkward, stoic and stubborn where Catherine is weak and weepy.

And of course, there’s the fact that Catherine has spent a good deal of her time at PATHOS-II trying really, really hard not to glance at Reed’s chest every time she strips out of her jumpsuit. Really distracting when she’s trying to work here.

Reed is the last person who would like her.

She hasn’t even seen Reed since they brought in the Vivarium, and she had been pretty shaken up then. At first, the way she worked with the machine was fascinating, the way she seemed to go sort of soft around the edges around them. But in the end, whatever it showed must have upset her.

Plenty of people are uncomfortable with the simulations, even the old legacies. Maybe she’s just one of them.

Catherine, on the other hand, is beyond intrigued. In that one scan of Reed, the WAU made more progress than she has in months. If she wants to figure this out, she can’t afford any distractions.

 

 

The Vivarium is spread out before her on the table, its mechanical guts in a pile. The edges of a few papers are stained with structure gel, but Catherine doesn’t mind.

It’s not the physical bits that she’s interested in half as much as the code, anyway. What the WAU’s doing here is completely unprecedented. This is her field of interest, she’s spent her entire life studying this, and yet she has practically no idea how it works.

So it’s too dangerous to just grab and use on people. But if she made some modifications…

“You busy?”

Catherine jumps and nearly slams her head into the monitor she had been so fixated on. Imogen Reed is standing in the doorway, clearly trying very hard not to grin at her misfortune. Catherine feels her face heat up.

“No. Nope. Not busy at all. Did you--“she barely manages to stammer before shutting up entirely. It’s always like this. She can practically feel other people judging her. Reed, to her credit, just smiles a little.

“Strohmeier told me to come by and see you. Said to make sure nothing bad happened because of,” she gestures to the cracked-open Vivarium, “that thing.”

Catherine perks up a little. This will be quick and painless. “If medical says you’re fine, you’re fine. My AR capsule, um, the simulation couldn’t have hurt you. Even with the WAU in it.” Reed nods, and Catherine hopes for a split second the conversation might be over. But then Reed walks into the room, undeterred, and stands right next to her. Picking thoughtfully at the mechanical bits spread out on the table.

“What the hell was that thing doing, anyway?” Reed’s tone is light, but Catherine saw her the other day—whatever she saw clearly bothered her. So Catherine chooses her words very carefully.

“It was trying to--well. It copied you?”

“Copied me?”

“Made a scan of you. Kind of like what I do, except…way more sophisticated.” She frowns slightly. It’s hard to explain the way she deals with scans to other people. “More realistic. I can barely make it act like a person, what the WAU made is…it’s you. It’s nearly a perfect copy of you.”

Reed’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Then get rid of it. Can’t you?” Catherine can feel her heart sink, just a little, because she knows she’ll roll over and say yes. Except—

“I could. But, I…” She takes a deep breath. “It would help my research more than you can even imagine if I used the scan of you.”

The silence hangs in the room. Reed gives her a long stare. And then finally:

“Fine.”

“Really? It’s okay?”

“Yeah, just…I don’t want to think about it too much, alright? I don’t need an evil twin on top of everything else we have to deal with.”

She shakes her head a little, as if clearing her thoughts, and turns to leave.

“Reed, um—“

She pauses in the doorway.

“Thank you. I mean it. If you need—anything. At all. Come by any time.”

Reed smiles, bright like the last time she saw the sun. “Will do, Cath.”

Catherine doesn’t get any work done for the rest of the day.

 

 

It’s a few days before Reed actually takes her up on the offer. And that’s a few days Catherine’s spent running the same simulations over and over again, changing the tiniest bits of code and then repeating ad infinitum. It doesn’t help that the WAU’s code is almost entirely incomprehensible, but she doesn’t need to understand it. Just repeat it. She’s confident that she’ll get there soon, but until then, it’s exhausting.

She’s starting to think about taking a coffee break when the door slides open without any warning, making her jump a little. Reed is there, actually smiling at her this time. It’s not unkind. “Sorry, I keep doing that.”

“It’s fine.” She responds, probably too quickly. “I did say to drop by whenever you want. Is there, can I do anything for you?”

Reed strides into the room. Her jumpsuit top is unzipped, the sleeves tied around her waist. Catherine very purposefully avoids looking at her toned arms. Or anything else, really. Her gaze is fixated somewhere around Imogen’s feet.

“Just thought I’d help you out.” She surveys the remains of the Vivarium with a look Catherine is familiar with. Like it’s a puzzle to be solved. “Figure there might be something in the hardware that could help with your little project.”

She tries with every fiber of her being to not be awkward. “Uh, help yourself, then. I’ll just…be here.” _Yeah. Good job. Really smooth._ Reed just nods and starts setting up her tools.

Catherine tries to get back to work. She really tries. But it’s hard to concentrate when there’s a very obvious presence in the room. Just silently watching her. Probably judging her, oh god why can’t she just work, now Reed’s going to think she’s a jittery mess—

“You can relax, you know.” Catherine whirls around to an almost concerned look on Imogen’s face. “I’m not going to bite you, or read over your shoulder, or whatever you think is going on.”

Catherine shakes her head violently. “It’s not that. It’s, um. I always have trouble. When there’s someone else in the room who I’m not used to working with.”

Reed frowns and returns to picking something apart. “We are working together. Seriously. Just pretend I’m one of your friends back on the surface.”

“I didn’t exactly have friends back on the surface. Or here.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Then she must see how Catherine’s face drops because she stops what she’s doing and backpedals. “Aw, no, I didn’t mean it in a bad way, come on. You just seem really withdrawn. Maybe you like it that way, no problem.”

Catherine focuses on her screen. It’s less exhausting than trying to fit the right face to the right emotion. “It’s fine. I’m just…not really very comfortable around other people.”

She nods. “Understood.” For a moment, it seems like the discussion is over. Reed yanks hard at a particularly stubborn cord, stops, looks up again. “But if you ever _do_ feel like talking to other humans, we could always eat together.” That gets her attention. It’s phrased more as a statement than an invitation, but she’s still feeling butterflies in her stomach all of a sudden.

“I think maybe I’d like that.”

Reed nods, as if that settles the matter, and they turn back to their work. With the air more clear between them, the seconds turn into minutes turn into hours and it feels almost relaxing. Catherine can’t remember the last time she had such a comfortable silence with another person.

 

 

They’re sitting in the back of the Theta cafeteria, sipping matching bowls of miso. Since the whole end of the world thing, meals have begun to take on a certain tension. They have supplies to last a long time, and there’s always the potential of algae farming, but there’s a lot that could go wrong. Catherine usually eats as little as she can as fast as she can and scurries back to the lab. Right now, with Reed, is probably the longest meal she’s had in months.

And their talk, about everything and nothing, is probably more than Catherine’s said in months. At least in one sitting.

“There’s a…language to them, the way things fit together. When it feels right, it just feels right.”

Catherine shakes her head. “No, I know exactly what you mean. In the moment of discovery.”

“Exactly. See, you’re a little passionate when you open up, huh?” Imogen is the picture of comfort, reclining in her chair, tapping her short nails on the edge of her bowl every so often. Catherine is absolutely mesmerized by her hands.

“I don’t know about that.” She flushes and looks down. “I’m just trying to make something worthwhile.”

“And you’ll get there. But don’t make it about proving yourself.”

“I’m not like you. It doesn’t come easy to me.”

Reed raises an eyebrow. “And you think it’s easy for everyone else?”

“Easier.”

“Look, the people who are going to like you are going to like you. You don’t have to change a thing.” She says it so casually, as if Catherine isn’t focusing very intently on not hyperventilating. “It’s not that weird that you don’t like people half as much as you like your brain scans.”

“I like _you_.”

“Well, now I feel special.” For a moment there’s a look on her face like—no, Catherine doesn’t want to hope that. She has a friend now. A real friend. That’s more than enough. More than she deserves.

 

 

“You’re frowning at that screen pretty hard, Cath.”

Imogen has been working behind her for the past few hours. She’s done what she could with the Vivarium, but lately she’s taken to bringing her own projects into Catherine’s lab to work. They developed a routine, kind of.

If Catherine didn’t know better, she would say Reed actually enjoys her company. Which brings her to the problem at hand.

“It’s your scan. She’s not…she’s not really playing nice with the others.”

That’s the nice way of saying it. The scan of Reed is absolutely ballistic. And it makes sense, seeing as the flat scans and the legacy models that Catherine has in there with her aren’t perfect copies like she is. Still, she’s not just unsettled—she’s raging, panicked, destructive, grieving all in turns.

It makes her uncomfortable to watch.

Reed too, clearly. She’s frowning. “Turn it off, then. I hate the fact that she even exists, don’t torture her like this.” Catherine acquiesces, ends the simulation, but Reed doesn’t look any happier. “It’s fucked up that you can just kill her and bring her into the world like that.”

“Well, it’s not—“she starts to correct, but Reed cuts her off.

“I’m serious, Cath, can you imagine that? Imagine being stuck like that, the only real person in a world of robots?”

Catherine tries to hide her discomfort. Because yes, actually, she can imagine that, and it sounds pretty ideal. But she doesn’t—she doesn’t want Reed to hate her, so she tries to summon up whatever sense she has of what normal people find reassuring.

“You’re not going to be alone. I’ve got it, now. I’m going scan myself as soon as I’m allowed to.”

As usual, it’s the wrong thing to say.

Reed gets a strange look on her face, even as she tries to sounds happy. “That’s amazing, Catherine. I knew you could do it.”

“I know you think it’s weird. I’m sorry. But just…think about it, maybe?” She tries to make what she thinks is a joking face. “I mean, the me in there is gonna be just as awkward as in real life. You don’t want me to be lonely, right?”

Reed smiles, at least, but it’s a sad one. “I’ll think about it. For now, you’ll just have to make do with me in the flesh.”

 _That’s not making do_ , she wants to say. _You’re perfect_. But whatever bravery got her talking in the first place has worn off now. Catherine watches distantly, disconnecting, as Imogen goes back to her work. She can’t bear to look at the screen.

 

 

“Are you nervous?”

Imogen Reed’s stupid pretty face is taunting her.

“I am now! Come on, don’t say that! Seriously! Stop laughing!”

Catherine is sitting as still as she possibly can in the pilot seat as Reed laughs next to her. This is her own scan, so she asked a couple people from downstairs to help set up the mechanism. Reed is here for, in her own words, emotional support.

“Don’t be an asshole! I’m going to feel terrible after this and I’m going to make you take care of me.”

Reed laughs again and leans against Catherine’s shoulder. “That’s not the worst punishment I can think of.” She wants to get closer, or maybe squirm away. But if she moves, they have to recalibrate, and that means another ten minutes of enduring this torture.

“Hey. Seriously, don’t be nervous. You worked so hard for this.”

“I know. That’s why I’m nervous.”

“You’re the smartest person I know, Cath. Nothing is going to go wrong.” Imogen grabs her hand tight, and she squeezes back.

“Chun, I think we’re ready.” Catherine takes a deep breath and settles herself back into the pilot seat. Reed leans over her, still smiling. “Good luck,” she says, and then—

Her lips touch Catherine’s in a way that, while chaste, couldn’t possibly be mistaken for platonic.

Before Catherine can say a word, Reed ducks away.

The pilot suit locks in.

The lights click on.

With joy overflowing, Catherine is scanned, copied onto a file that awaits the ARK.

 

 

She sleeps off the overwhelming nausea in Reed’s bed, which even by her standards is not a great first date.

 

 

“How’s the mad scientist?” Two (very nice) arms grab Catherine from behind and lift her. Reed’s face presses against her back.

“Imogen!” she squeaks, delighted, “Put me down! I mean it!” But they’re both laughing, smiling. Finally, Reed twirls her around and kisses her forehead.

Lindwall, in the pilot seat, doesn’t look amused by their antics. Actually, she looks like she might throw up—which is not strictly their fault, but Catherine feels bad.

“You’re all done, Sarah. Try to drink some water and lay down, okay?” Lindwall nods and practically jumps out of the chair. Probably to go be sick. _Poor thing_. Catherine’s bedside manner has never been exactly outstanding.

Reed perches on the pilot seat, not quite sitting in it. “Looks like that went well.”

“About as good as it gets.” Catherine shrugs. “I wish it didn’t make people so sick, but there’s not much I can do.”

“I can ask Wolchezk to take a look at it for you sometime.”

“Really? Thanks.” Catherine sidles up to the seat, not quite on her lap. That’s a little too bold for her. “You sure you don’t want a scan? I could do you right now.”

“You could do me right now?” She raises an eyebrow and Catherine can feel her face go red almost immediately. “I’ll pass. It’s not for me. Too invasive.”

Catherine opens her mouth to explain that it’s really not, but Reed cuts her off.

“Even if I did want to, I don’t exactly have the time for a three day hangover.”

She frowns. It’s too soon for the things she wants to say—that she wants to spend her entire afterlife with this woman, that she can’t stand the thought of her dying under these artificial lights.

“Sorry, I’ve just got other things to do.” Reed tries to placate her.

“Really.” She responds, her disbelief obvious. “And what, exactly, are you so busy with?”

Reed curls an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, their faces nearly touching. If this is a distraction, it’s working. “Come here. I’ll tell you all about it.”

The rules about fraternization with colleagues have never been particularly strict. Thankfully, the end of the world has made things even more lenient. If someone needs to use the lab in the next hour, well.

They’re just going to have to wait.

 

 

“I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.”

Everything has gone so, so wrong.

The appropriate response is grief. She should be sad about Sarang, missing him. Maybe even feeling a little guilty, although it wasn’t her fault. Instead, Catherine is angry. How dare he? How dare he be so…so crazy, so selfish as to do that? Now everything she worked for has been taken away from her, and it’s all his fault. She’s mad at Strohmeier too, for blaming her, for not understanding. For leaving her with nothing.

“Sssh, Cath. It’s okay.”

At least she has Reed.

They’re curled up together in Catherine’s bed. Imogen rubs her back in steady circles. The closeness is surprisingly nice, but she wishes…

Well. In the movies, it always seems like having a girlfriend magically fixes all your problems.

Reed slips a hand under her shirt, traces the outline of her spine. She feels too human, too much in her body. How can she explain that to a woman so alive, so very real like Reed is?

“You’re thinking really loud, Cath.” She pulls away, gives Catherine a little space. “Do you need me to back off?”

“Sorry. It’s just a lot.”

“Want me to leave?”

Catherine shakes her head. “No. Please. Maybe just no touching right now.”

“Sounds good.”

Carefully, Reed rolls out of bed and pulls up the chair from her desk.

“You’ve got a nice room, actually. You been working out?” She laughs, nudging one of Catherine’s weights with her foot.

“Mm, can’t you tell?” Catherine sticks one of her arms out of the covers and flexes weakly. Imogen leans forward in the chair and gives her a warm smile. “Very nice.” She scans the room with the same kind of warmth, and then her glance falls on Catherine’s fan.

“Whoa, this is beautiful.”

“It’s from Taipei. Where I was born.”

“Never been. Was it nice?”

“I feel more at home here, to be honest. But it’s still important to me.”

“Tell me about it.”

Catherine smiles.

“When I was little, I used to climb all the way to the top of my building…”

 

 

“I’m ready, Cath. Do it before I lose my nerve.”

She’s done plenty of the scans now, has it down to an art. Wolchezk, miracle that she is, even managed to take off the worst of the hangover.

But it’s different this time, with Reed in the chair. Catherine’s palms are sweating. What if something goes wrong?

No one talks about it, but their situation, their little bubble of life under the surface is not improving. Every day, she feels more and more confident that the ARK is the only thing that will last. Reed’s upload needs to be perfect, because now Catherine can’t stand the idea of an afterlife without her.

“I’m starting it now, okay?”

“Hold on a second. Kiss for luck.”

Even though she feels stiff with worry, Catherine leans over and kisses her gently. Just like Reed did to her before. “Good luck.” She tries not to think about the anxious look on Reed’s face. This is for the best. Everything she’s doing is for the best.

There’s a tense silence as she darts around the room, double-checking everything.

“Sorry, should I be—“

“What do you need?” Catherine snaps back, only half listening.

“Should I be doing something?”

“No, not really.”

“I don’t know how-“ begins Reed, but the pilot seat is starting up now. The buzz of the seat drowns out her voice.

It’s the moment of truth. “Here we go.”

Reed closes her eyes, steeling herself as Catherine starts the scan. The lights come on, clicking one at a time. All seems to be in order, but Catherine can’t look away from the monitors. She has to be sure. Reed is coming through perfectly fine, but the scan is slow, like she’s struggling.

“Catherine…” she whispers from the chair.

“Please, try to relax a little? This will go much better if you don’t fight it.” Catherine doesn’t turn from the monitor. It’s starting to, well, freak out a little now. This hasn’t happened before, and she can feel herself starting to panic, and--

“Catherine, I can’t!” hisses Reed from the pilot seat, more insistent now.

Something is very wrong.

 

 

Catherine wakes up to the light of Imogen’s tablet screen sometime in the early evening. Reed hasn’t been sleeping much, not since her scan, but it’s not like Catherine is keeping the most regular hours herself. She’s been staying up later and later to work, which is what leads to her napping in the middle of the day like this. Not to mention the emotional exhaustion of telling yet another person that no, the coin toss isn’t real, they’re stuck here. And then enduring whatever verbal abuse that provokes.

As for her sleeping in Reed’s room, well. Her excuse is that someone should be nearby in case of another seizure. Which she still feels sickly terrible about. And yet, it hasn’t stopped her from asking nearly every day if she can try again. She just can’t stop thinking about what might happen. A different Reed appearing in the ARK half finished, corrupted, doomed.

In the quiet darkness, she tangles her legs with Reed’s.

“Didn’t know you woke up.”

“I just did.”

She puts the tablet down and turns in bed to face Catherine. They press together in the tiny bed. Their foreheads touch for a moment before Reed ducks to kiss her neck. Catherine shivers, runs her fingers through soft red hair.

Imogen pulls away, examining her work, and laughs quietly. “Since you’re up, do you want to meet the others in the common room? They’re breaking out some of the last of our alcohol. It’s for the new people here from Delta.”

She wants to say no. But she knows it’s been hard—Reed is so much more a social creature than she is, and she doesn’t want to hold her back. And even the promise of a kiss or more isn’t enough to distract her from her work lately. Playtime is over. Even though she feels terrible about it.

So twenty minutes later, they’re both looking slightly more dressed and presentable (despite her best efforts, Catherine can’t figure out how to hide the fairly obvious mark on her neck, and in the end decides she’s okay with that,) and standing in a crowded room. Imogen is chatting animatedly with Hart and Komorebi. The vodka is flowing about as much as it can, considering they have a limited amount of the stuff.

Catherine feels profoundly uncomfortable. There’s something like 30 people in the very small room—she can handle 3 other people on her best days. Already she’s nervous, she just knows she’s going to say or do the wrong thing.

Too many bodies, too much human, too little space. Her face is red, she feels like she’s about to be sick, she needs to get out of here.

She turns and taps Reed on the shoulder. “Imogen, I’m going—“

Someone bangs a spoon against their metal cup. It’s not helping her overstimulation.

The rest of the room hushes up. Hart offers a mug and she accepts it automatically.

“To surviving a little longer!” crows Jonsy. Everyone cheers in assent, clicking together whatever they’re using as cups. Catherine just holds hers still and sips.

“To Finley.” Comes the next cheer, and Catherine can practically feel the blood drain from her body. The latest victim of continuity is still fresh in her mind. Not this, not now. “Wish he were still here with us instead of on the fucking ARK.” People are murmuring solemnly, finishing their drinks.

Catherine downs hers in a single gulp, shoves the cup back into Vanessa’s hands, and darts away into the hallway.

Barely a moment passes when she hears steps following her. Reed calls her name.

“I need to go work.”

“Seriously, Catherine?”

“I don’t want to be around this many _people_.” She can’t help the way it comes out, the disgust in her voice. Reed stops in her tracks.

“Seriously.” She repeats, shaking her head. “I know it’s not your fault, but…“

“But what.” Her own voice sounds far away. She’s not entirely sure it’s her that’s talking anymore, or if the words are just occurring.

“You’ve got to take some responsibility. Or at least _pretend_ that you actually care that they’re gone.”

“I do—“

“No, Catherine, you care that your project is in trouble. Fuck, I just…I don’t understand you, sometimes.” Reed leans against the wall, runs a hand through her hair. Like she’s so tired of her.

And it’s just like every argument she’s ever had. Suddenly she’s sick with fear and her voice comes out sounding so small and childlike.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” She manages before the tears come and cut her off. Without another look at Reed, she practically runs for her lab.

Eight hours later, Reed brings her a cup of soup and they end up having tense, quiet sex on the lab floor. All is forgiven, it seems. But no matter how gently Reed kisses her, Catherine can’t shake that sick feeling.

 

 

“It’s not my fault, Imogen! It’s not! I just need to make Strohmeier understand—“

“Robin is fucking dead and that’s what you’re upset about?! Fuck, Catherine.”

“I’m not happy she’s dead! You know what she said to me, after the scan? She told me not to give up. And clearly nothing I do is going to stop them thinking what they want.” She kicks the chair just to lash out at something. Childish. “What do you want me to do?”

Reed drops onto her bed in a huff. “I don’t know, what do you think I want you to do? Stop the fucking project, Cath! It’s killing them and it’s killing you too!”

“No, what’s killing them is their own ignorance!” Her eyes are bright with tears, her voice getting more and more strained. “And you want me to stop trying to save what’s left of them?” _What’s left of you?_

“I want you to think about someone other than yourself! Or, hell, do think about yourself, because this is _not_ what’s best for you.”

Catherine stares down at her feet. Sure, it looks bad. She’s been skipping meals, sleeping less. But her body, her weak and fragile human body, isn’t important anymore. They’ll all be dead eventually.

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

They stay like that for a moment, breathing together in the small room. Catherine feels—trapped, like the walls are closing in.

Finally, Reed pats the spot on the bed next to her. Body heavy, Catherine sits down.

“I just don’t want you to forget about what matters. This is your life, Cath. Real life.”

She’s wrong, of course. The Catherine in the ARK is just as real as she is, just without a body. They are separate and the same, neither one more true than the other. How many times can she explain this?

Imogen is holding her hand now, carefully lacing their fingers together. Catherine loves her, but the touch makes her skin crawl.

Still, she doesn’t pull away.

 

 

It’s over. It’s gone.

None of Catherine’s things have been moved out of the lab yet, but it already feels more empty. Lifeless, somehow. Cold where it used to be comforting.

There’s nothing she can do to change this. The ARK project is shut down. By the end of today, she will have disabled her scanning equipment. There will not be another scan.

She’s thankful, at least, that she’s still permitted to work with what she has. She can still make sure that something survives. She can still go to Phi and launch whatever she ends up with.

It’s little consolation. She was going to save everyone.

She was going to save _everyone_.

Catherine falls to her knees next to the pilot seat. Her back heaves with quiet, choking sobs. She’s lucky that she can cry at all. That’s the first human response she hasn’t completely failed today. If only she had fought harder. Maybe if she were like the others, if she could scream and argue instead of shrinking into herself and rolling over.

Not for the first time, she wishes she could trade places with her scan in the ARK.

“Hey.”

Reed lets herself into the lab, as usual. This could be an ordinary day, except—except—

Catherine sobs again, tucks her head between her knees.

Reed sighs and sits down next to her, lets Catherine lean against her. A thick silence hangs between them, the ‘maybe this is for the best’ that they both know she’s not going to say. “I‘m sorry.” She murmurs, petting Catherine’s hair.

Suddenly her eyes widen.

“Imogen. Please. Let me try again. This is the last chance.”

Like she’s just been thrown into cold water, Reed pulls away. “No. Not even now. Let it go.”

“Please. If something went wrong—“

“That’s not your problem, Catherine.”

But it is. She stands up, fists balled at her sides. How can she do that to herself? Leave her with a Reed that’s half finished?

“It is my problem. _Please_.”

“I’m telling you no, it’s not up for debate!” Reed pulls herself to her feet and holds Catherine by her shoulders. Her face is cold. Catherine can’t read it.

She’s shutting down, withdrawing into herself and she knows it. Not this time.

“You’re going to die. You’re going to die and you won’t let me save you.”

“I’m _human_ , Catherine! So are you, in case you haven’t noticed! Yeah, we’re going to die down here. But first we’re going to live—or you could if you paid any goddamn attention!”

“I can _fix_ it, Imogen—“

“No, you can’t.”

“We’ll live on! Just let me do this!”

“Your life is here, Catherine! I’m here! And you don’t even—“ Her voice wavers. Catherine is suddenly aware that she’s never seen her cry before.

“Who do you care about? Do you love me, or the thing in there?”

Catherine is silent. It’s worse than anything she could say.

“…fine.” Imogen chokes out, turning her face away. Her voice is hoarse and cold in a way Catherine’s never heard it before. “Alright. That’s your choice, then.”

Reed doesn’t come by that evening. Or the day after.

It’s all over. It’s all gone.

 

 

With the ARK project technically shut down, Catherine has suddenly found herself with a surplus of free time. She supposes she could spend it with a girlfriend, if she had one.

As it is, she mostly wanders from room to room, drinking her instant coffee. She lingers in any room with a window to the ocean, spending hours staring into the endlessness of the sea. As if she just looked for long enough, she could feel connected to something.

She’s watching a K8 model hover around when Hart walks in. It doesn’t startle her.

“Hey, Catherine!” Hart smiles, all fake cheer. No, that’s not fair of her—Hart is a sweet woman. She supported the project until the very end. Catherine forces herself to smile.

“Hey.”

Beaming, Hart comes bounding into her personal space. “I was wondering if you’d seen Imogen around? I know the two of you are close, we need her to help pack some things for Lambda—“

Catherine holds up a single hand, takes a step back. “Lambda? Reed’s going to Lambda?”

Hart frowns a little. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She didn’t.”

“Weird. She was saying that you got her assigned there, actually.”

“I—what?!”

Hart finally seems to sense that she’s stepped into a private situation. “Look, Cath, we don’t ship out for another 8 hours. If you want to talk to her—“

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice is cold. “Please, don’t.”

Vanessa winces and she instantly regrets it. She usually doesn’t snap like that. She takes a deep breath and gathers her words.

“Just…tell her I’m worried? Tell her she can always try again. I want her to try again. If there’s anything you can do to convince her…”

That, at least, is something Hart can understand. Eternal bliss for her friends. Isn’t that what they all wanted?

“I’ll try, Catherine. We’ll be back in a month or two, so don’t worry too much about it.” More false hope. It does nothing to ease to tension she’s clearly telegraphing. For a moment she’s worried that Hart might actually try to hug her, but she just waves goodbye and walks off, leaving her in relative peace.

Reed is going to Lambda. Reed is leaving the station. And given how their situation has only gotten worse, there’s a very real chance that she won’t come back.

That the Catherine in a human body will never see Reed again.

She turns back to the ocean.

 

 

The ocean bears down on Theta, unrelenting. Catherine can’t sleep.

Some of the people who had been scanned said they were having trouble sleeping, stopped dreaming. Accused her of taking something from them.

She lays in her bed, turning the fan over in her hands. The thin paper scratches just slightly over her hands, grounding her, keeping her aware of her body.

She’s going to do it. They’ll walk into the abyss. They’ll launch the ARK. Everyone she can save will live on in the stars and the other her will be happy up there. And the human Catherine will make the long walk back to Theta and she’ll be a hero. The savior of what’s left of mankind.

And, if she allows herself to indulge in her fantasy a little, Imogen will be there with open arms. She’ll have changed her mind, seen the light, and she’ll be so proud. It’s all going to be okay.

At the bottom of the ocean, Catherine Chun smiles and drifts to sleep.

 

 

Catherine Chun wakes up. The bright sun is hurting her eyes.

She blinks. The sun?

She remembers Reed kissing her, and the scan starting up.

This is the ARK. She’s no longer in a human body, she’s on the ARK and they’ve just started the simulation. The human her must have done something right.

There’s soft, green grass all around her. Rich and healthy. The sky is clear—better weather, she remembers, they had decided on.

It’s her first time being above water in so long. She hadn’t realized how much she missed real air. Or simulated real air, as the case is. She wonders if her human self has gifted her with sunrises, sunsets.

There’s a thousand years to enjoy this. Right now, she ought to check everything’s running correctly, tap into the source code, and then—

“Cath!”

Reed must have been scanned. Catherine takes a private moment to thank herself for whatever she did that convinced Reed to do it. Because no matter what, it was worth this.

Imogen is standing in the field a little ways away from her. The sun frames her face, lighting up her hair in a blaze of gold. She’s smiling brilliantly, and for a moment Catherine feels a sharp pain at knowing that they never got to see each other on the surface, as humans. But it fades just as quickly. They have eternity among the stars. She’ll hold Imogen’s hand, they’ll lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by. She’ll build the Taipei of her memories and show her the world as she sees it.

For the next few minutes, at least, the ARK can wait.

Catherine smiles, and allows herself a moment to be human.

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile under the sea, it all goes to shit and everyone dies. Good job, team.


End file.
